welcome to your new hell, Welcome to the Menagerie. Or as we like to call it, Dome Sweet Dome! We are an eight-year strong futuristic shapeshifter and sci-fi creature roleplay, dedicated to bringing you a world unlike any other; a world in which your character has become an experiment and must fight for survival in a domed city, cut off from the rest of the world. Choose to be any animal in your fight for survival in an artificial world built by the Keepers as they subject you to experiments beyond your control. Choose to wander the world inside the walls alone, as a Rogue, or find safety in numbers in one of the groups known as Rings. How will you survive?
60 - 65 ºF
blustery with scattered showers spotty sunshine
YEAR 2309
shift bans.
» Cougars (aka Puma, Mountain Lion, Panther)
» All Tiger Species
» All Lion Species
» All Wolf Species
» African Leopards
group bans.
none.
encouraged !
FEMALE CHARACTERS! create a RETRO or ANTHRO and get 250 CP + a free skill! read me for more info!
last updated: april 19th, 2016
Click on each Ring or Retro group image to view their ranks!
GROUP UPDATES
CARNARING
Jocelyn Edelwolfe is the new Alpha! Seija Mulviene is the new Beta, and Grey is the new Delta. Lead Hunter is now Boone Haywood, Head of Border Patrol is now Noelle Ndango!
FALLENRING
-
FULSIRING
Fulsi has a standing treaty with the Nakoma, granting limited access to their fresh water.
NAKOMA TRIBE
-
ANALOYA PRIDE
a while back, the Analoya suffered a suspicious poisoning of their river, luckily with few casualties; the Bellator are suspected of having taken part in it, and there are whispers that Pride leader Wanderer is talking alliance with the Nilda for access to their clean water.
BELLATOR HERD
As new leader of the Bellator, Loril has instituted some rank changes. See this thread for more information!
LAWAII FLOCK
no updates!
NILDA PACK
no updates!
CARNARING QUICK STATS
ALPHA -- Jocelyn Edelwolfe, Clouded Leopard, played by IronChild
BETA -- Seija Mulviene, Spotted Hyena, played by Seija-chan
DELTA --Grey, Mackenzie Valley Wolf, played by Kriss
_______________________________________________
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”Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, food for thought .”
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I'm a ticking bomb, none will shut it off, because none can guess.
"Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"
it was really only you
[blockquote][color=325645][size=1][center][color=72A886][font=Georgia][size=6][b][shadow=silver,left,300]J [size=5]A R E D[/size][/shadow][/b][/size][/font][/color][blockquote][color=5C7A7A][left][i]and no one even knew[/i][/left][/color][/blockquote]"Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam, eaque ipsa quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo. Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem quia voluptas sit aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt. Neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem. Ut enim ad minima veniam, quis nostrum exercitationem ullam corporis suscipit laboriosam, nisi ut aliquid ex ea commodi consequatur? Quis autem vel eum iure reprehenderit qui in ea voluptate velit esse quam nihil molestiae consequatur, vel illum qui dolorem eum fugiat quo voluptas nulla pariatur?"[blockquote][color=5C7A7A][right][i]it was really only you[/i][/right][/color][/blockquote] [/center][/size][/color][/blockquote]
Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. “Talk talk talk talk talk talk.” Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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[center][table] [tr][td][img]http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg128/iSailor_Galaxia/KimikoTable.jpg[/img][atrb=border,0,true][bg=62c4c5][color=022c2b][size=1][blockquote] Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. [color=1c9c9b][i]“Talk talk talk talk talk talk.”[/i][/color] Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
Ooc: "I'M STILL AWAY! Just got some Internets for a bit! Will try to post, promise!"
Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. “Talk talk talk talk talk talk.” Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth the minor fall, the major lift the baffled king composing hallelujah
---
Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, and will not let belief take hold of him touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: therefore I have entreated him along with us to watch the minutes of this night; that if again this apparition come, he may approve our eyes and speak to it.
“For God's love, let me hear!”
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
---
there's a blaze of light in every word it doesn't matter which you heard the holy or the broken hallelujah
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text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text [/size][/font][/color][/blockquote][/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
All my unspoken instincts, my vague suspicions, suddenly took shape and centred upon the naturalist. In that impassive, colourless man, with his straw hat and his butterfly-net, I seemed to see something terrible—a creature of infinite patience and craft, with a smiling face and a murderous heart.
“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”
You never tire of the moor. You cannot think the wonderful secrets which it contains. It is so vast, and so barren, and so mysterious.
He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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Lyric speaks!
Lyric Shikov thinks!
xxxxx
the notes;; the muse;; the music;; the word count;; the marionette doll;;
[center][table] [tr][td][img]http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/5063ee14251d2bbafef514df20907a52.jpg[/img][atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][color=FFFFFF][size=1][blockquote] Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty "speechy speechy speech" texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious text texty texttlicious
[center][table] [tr][td] [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,439,true] [center][img]http://usera.ImageCave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/kenret1.jpg[/img][/center][/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=background,http://usera.ImageCave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/kenret2.jpg][blockquote][color=5E5E5E] text [color=E2E2E6]"speech"[/color] texttlicious [/color][/blockquote][/td][/tr] [tr][td][center][img]http://usera.ImageCave.com/Ravenz/sixingold/kenret3.jpg[/img][/center][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
Fallen - Scout - 19 - African Wild Dog - Single - Reluctant Coward
+ Wallcrawling
He awoke peacefully for once, all was well. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in sight, the sand were pleasantly warm on his back, and there was a light breeze cool his neck. Wait, where was his scarf? There should be no breeze, pleasant or not on his neck because he always wore that precious green and white scarf! Jolting up into a sitting position, he clawed at his neck, trying to feel for the soft wool but just grabbing air instead. Slowly his hands settled into a position normally used to signal that one is choking and in a way he was, not having that long strip of fabric wrapped around his throat was like not being able to breathe. His shock soon gave way to fury, he would find the moron who had taken his scarf and he would make them regret being born, he’d give then cancer so bad they’d have two head for him to kick in. Leaping up from his sitting position, he was on the hunt.
***
Seven hours had passed since he’d awoken without his most prized possession and he’d yet to find it or even a hint that might lead him to the thief. So he had counted his losses, which would explain why he was sitting on a rickety barstool nursing another bottle of the harsh whiskey that was the only form of hard liquor he could find. Dmitri was determined to get stoned out of his mind, he planned to drink until he could no longer stand up and that was a hard task for someone with his tolerance. He’d been drinking ever since “the incident” and that was what, since he was eight? He couldn’t exactly recall anymore, too much alcohol running though his veins. Another swig of the dusty bottle and Dmitri felt the room begin to spin, it was finally taking affect. Lowering his head onto the cool wooden bar, he looked at the collection of empty bottles that lay haphazardly on the counter, there were only two so far but that would soon change, he intended to drink himself to death, perhaps literally. There was no point in living if he couldn’t even care for something so important. He was an idiot, worthless, and also done with this bottle. Tossing it across the room, he laughed bitterly as he heard it shatter against the far wall. He almost wished he was that bottle, living was hard, dying was so easy.
The other bottles he’d found, he had left laid out on one of the speakeasy’s tables for easy access but as he tried to pull himself up and off the stool he found that he’d overestimated his drunken self’s balance. Stumbling over to the table after falling on his butt and having several unsuccessful tries to haul himself back up, Dmitri finally made it. However that short lived moment of success was overshadowed by his lack of depth perception. He over reached as he went to snatch another bottle of whiskey and went hurtling forward, crashing into the old table. The alcohol went flying as the table flipped over yielding to the added weight and Dmitri found himself laying on the wet floor covering in strong smelling whiskey, several large buries, and pieces of yellowed glass. Brushing the wet hair from his face, Dmitri watched the ceiling boards multiple into twin pairs and swarm as he wondered when god would just decided that it was time for him to go. Hadn’t he drunk enough for it to be fatal yet? Reaching to grab a half broken but still whiskey filled bottle, he pressed the jagged glass to his lips. Sour whiskey mixed with blood but it wasn’t like he could taste it anymore, alcohol was alcohol, all that mattered was it made him forget.
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Augustine Wolfgang speaks!
Augustine Wolfgang thinks!
the notes;; Ali-Pie said I needed a happy character. This is the happy character. u.u the muse;; the music;; the word count;; the marionette doll;;
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[color=380076]Augustine Wolfgang speaks![/color]
[color=5F00C8][i]Augustine Wolfgang thinks![/i][/color]
ISAMU TABLE! 8D ew I don't like that space :c mustfix. a little better 3: Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. “Talk talk talk talk talk talk.” Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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- - - - - ooc notes here
[center][table][tr][td][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][img]http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/isatable222.png[/img][/td][/tr][tr][td][atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/isatablemid.png][blockquote][color=390506] [size=3]ISAMU TABLE! 8D ew I don't like that space :c mustfix. a little better 3:[/size] [size=1]Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. [color=be9364] “[b]Talk talk talk talk talk talk.[/b]”[/color] Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here. Text here, text here. Text here, oh yes indeed the text goes here.
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